


Just a Dream

by JudasComplex



Category: Addergoole Series - Lyn Thorne-Alder
Genre: But whatever, F/M, Sexual Fantasy, if you looked up "hot for teacher" in the dictionary, not a relationship but she wishes it was, well you'd find Linden, yay horny teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 09:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4619466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JudasComplex/pseuds/JudasComplex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a school filled with beautiful people itching for a place in someone else's bed, Mystral has eyes for only one.</p>
<p>And he's not the one wearing her collar. He's her brother's Mentor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, the early days of Mystral and Luke. When she's a stupid ridiculous teenager who can't tell people how she feels. Yaaaaay. (Must have gotten that from...oh right. Both of her parents.)

This was absurd.

She had to be able to get through her classes without stumbling over her own feet – how was this even remotely becoming of her? She'd spent all this time in class with him before, and this hadn't been a problem. She had been focused, studious, without hesitation. Nothing stood in her way.

Now what was the difference? Three years in and she had lost her nerve? Mind fled every time he looked at her? Couldn't focus well enough to not practically walk herself into a wall?

This had to be what most students felt like around Vanderlinden.

She'd made it back to her room, thank the gods. She wasn't hungry, and thus shooed Akakios away when he came to ask her about dinner. She didn't want the alpaca boy around right now. Kios was lovely and sweet, but he was simple and young and stupid.

_Not like him._

She didn't give in to this sort of nonsense. It didn't help anything. It was foolishness, and dreaming of something that would never happen, and was everything she didn't need to be doing.

She flopped on her bed and closed her eyes, trying to push the idea from her head. But his eyes still burned into her mind, and she couldn't get them out. A gentle hand in class, guiding where she should be. The rumble of a command as something went wrong. A thousand tiny moments caught in her mind.

_Luke._

She shivered, furious at herself. She was never going to focus if she didn't find a way to keep this ridiculous temptation at bay. But with her eyes closed, her mind wandered...

In the fantasy, it was nighttime. It didn't make sense, but her door was open – of course, no one could enter the room but Kios; she'd given him long standing permission to enter her Home since last year. But somehow, she felt a hand against her cheek as she slumbered.

Her eyes opened, and she saw Luke's staring back at her. She went to speak, but he set a finger to her lips, quietly shushing her. In the low light, she could barely make out the glint of the blue in his eyes as they watched her. Silently, he shifted the sheet she was lying under, sliding in over her, eyes never moving from hers. She shifted to lie on her back, heart up in her throat.

“Relax,” he murmured softly. “I don't bite.” He leaned forward to press a kiss to her neck, at the spot it met her collarbone. “At least, not that hard.”

Mystral shuddered softly, almost afraid to touch him, for fear he'd vanish. But slowly, as he set kisses against her skin trailing up to her chin, she reached one hand up to rest against his chest. Luke was strong, well-built, showing his training. So different from anyone else around. So much more... _complete_ than any of the others. This was a man who could hold her in one arm and barely notice her weight.

See any of the boys in her Cohort manage that.

Just as Luke could have reached her lips, he moved, tracing down her jawline on the other side, hand sliding gently up her side, fingertips to flesh as it snaked up under her shirt. She shivered, body arching to meet his, and he chuckled gently. “Ticklish?”

“Sensitive,” she breathed back, drawing her hand up to rest on his neck.

“Mmmm.” His hands shifted, taking the hem of her shirt and lifting it over her head. She lifted her shoulders up, letting the fabric leave her. She took her free hand and flipped her hair over her shoulder, spilling it over her chest instead of lying on it. It didn't take long for Luke to brush it away from her, hand traveling slowly over her chest. She watched his eyes track the path his hand was taking, as it reached her shoulder and then traced down her side again. “You're lovely.”

“You put me to shame,” she whispered, tugging lightly on the collar of his shirt.

“Mmmm,” was the response again, but this time less believing. He leaned back, reached around his back, and then pulled his shirt off. “I'm old.”

“True beauty comes out with age,” she murmured, reaching up to trace his chest. Each line, each scar, everything new and beautiful and different. “When you're young, you have no character. You haven't lived yet; you're too new. You...”

“You talk too much.” Luke leaned forward again, pressing his lips to hers, to silence her. And this silence, she was happy enough to take. She leaned into the kiss, hands tracing his sides as his slid to her hips. It didn't matter how the rest of their clothing vanished, but it did – leaving them flesh to flesh, her skin feeling chill against his chest despite the fact that she could feel her heartbeat in ever inch of her body.

One of his hand pressed flat against the small of her back, he held her close, face buried in the crook of her neck. Her head fell back, one hand raking through his hair and the other on his hip, nails digging into his side. His name tumbled awkwardly from her lips, and she got only a rumble in response, a deep sound she felt more then heard. His hand on her back, the other on her breast, each place he touched was like fire had erupted in her skin.

Finally, what felt like eternities later, she could feel him against her, pressing at her, waiting. “Tell me when,” the murmur came, like a summer wind on her ear.

“Now, now – gods, yesterday,” she breathed. He grunted something that could have been an aborted chuckle, and pressed himself into her. Her breath caught – not in pain, just in the sensation – and she pressed her body closer to his, moving her hips against his.

“Tell me if I'm too rough.”

_She_ almost laughed, this time. “No such thing, Luke.”

“You might be surprised.” He bit at her neck, and she gasped as he built up his speed, their bodies finding a rhythm together, and with each motion she could feel herself lost more and more to the feeling of their bodies entwined--

Until there was a knock at the door – the actual door. Out of breath and just on the edge of exactly where she wanted to be, she sighed out in frustration. “What?” she barked out.

A pause, and then a tentative, “I'd just come in, but the door's locked.” Kios. Of course it was Kios.

“What do you _want_ , Kios?”

“Sorry, I just...it's dinner time, and I thought you'd want to...”

_Gods, he's useless sometimes._ “I'll meet you there, okay? Just...give me a minute.”

She heard his footsteps retreating, and sighed, trying to push herself back into the daydream.

Imagining his voice in her ear, whispering her name, did exactly the trick.

 


End file.
